Genesis
by Nyctale
Summary: As the mortals gaze upon the new Dawn and rebuild their lives among the ashes of the Star Scourge, they question the absence of their gods during the dark years of the Plague. Feeling betrayed, many turn to a new faith, one that worships newly ascended gods...who were once mortals. (Post-game, God!AU)
1. Chapter 1

_(A/N)_ I originally posted this on AO3 and decided to broaden the audience so I posted here. There is no beta currently, if you'd like to offer your help, message me on tumblr (id: ijouno) Enjoy!

* * *

 _Softness, like the gentle kiss of the first rays of daylight. The immense pain that had torn his body asunder felt like a distant echo, leaving him in this dream-like weightlessness._

 _It was over, he knew that much. He paid for the mistakes of his ancestors and the gods with his life. A part of him wanted to scream at the injustice: they robbed him of his one chance at life, he had left Insomnia all those years ago brimming with curiosity about the unknown world sprawling beyond the Wall. He did see many sights, but they all passed as a blur, on nerves, terrified of the moment someone would recognize him and sell him out to Niflheim. He barely_ lived _._

 _He now understood the profound sadness he glimpsed in his father's eyes when he thought he wasn't looking. Every time he left the Citadel after his short visits during his teenage years, every time his father told him to savor each and every moment of his life. He must have known about the fate that awaited his son. It must have been horrible._

 _But it was too late. He could only hope he left a legacy behind him and a world where they can build for a better future. He hoped his friends could see it, their future. They had wanted to fight till the bitter end alongside him like they knew he'd do for them. He wondered if he'd see them again... sooner than he would have hoped. He remembered seeing them in the void of the Crystal, but he had hoped, and still hoped they only appeared to his side because he had unknowingly being pulling at their bond when he had called forth all of his powers...not because they lost their own fight._

 _The calm whistle of a breeze lulled him to consciousness. He pried his eyes open, expecting to see the strange sight of the afterlife for the first time. But instead he found himself staring down at the familiar long stretch of the throne room, with its towering pillars, dusty black marble, rubbles from a past battle and arching staircases that led to the dais, where he sat exactly like when he took his last breath._

 _It was eerily quiet, there was no distant cries of daemons, only the breeze whispering to him. The sky was turning grey_

 _What was happening?_

 _Could really this be the afterlife?_

 _The massive double doors groaned painfully as they were pushed open and a bright figure emerged, radiant like a sun. He stared, dumbfounded, at the svelte silhouette that approached him silently, but as she got closer, he recognized her smile, one that jarred happy memories from his childhood. A bright smile that conflicted with the sadness in her eyes._

 _"...L-luna...?" he shakily whispered as she knelt before him, taking his sullied hand in hers, her smile ever present._

 _"Do you wish to see it?" she sang and he frowned in confusion._

 _"The Dawn."_

* * *

When _it_ rose for the first time in a decade over the horizon, the world seemed to freeze. Pale faces, glued to their windows watched the fiery orb setting the mountain range ablaze and paint the world in a golden light.

Young children cried at the unknown sight and many attempted to shield their sensitive vision with their hands as the sun continued its steadfast ascension across the sky among the dark particles of the Scourge that fell upon them like a torrential rain, leaving only a blue sky in its wake. The sun didn't stop its course and no dark clouds came to obscure it save for the occasional black particles that danced like an angry swarm of insects as it was carried by the wind.

They stayed indoors, scared that looking from the other side of the glass at the phenomenon would break the spell and the nightmare would begin anew. It was only for the second dawn that the first residents set foot outside and shed tears at the beauty of their new future.

The cell phone shook against Iris' ear as she pleaded, over and over to hear the familiar voice of his brother pick up on the other end. She had tried all morning and always ended on the cheesy voicemail he recorded with his wife. She couldn't despair yet. It has almost been 48 hours since the bright light that streaked across the sky and slaughtered all daemons in its wake, and 48 hours since her brother's silence. She could only hope it was a coincidence.

She almost dropped her phone when it jerked to life in her hand, heart hammering, finally seeing the number she had wished for she slammed it against her ear.

"Gladdy!"

"Iris." said another voice, mature and older, one that belonged to her hunting partner, Cor. Her heart sank and legs shook.

"My brother... why are you on his phone?"

Profound dread crept up on her as tears filled up her eyes and gripped her voice.

"We found them in Insomnia-"

Insomnia? Everybody knew the place was...had been a no-go-zone, the biggest den of daemons no sane hunters would dare to approach. Gladdy knew how dangerous it was.

"What does that mean?!"

"Iris, they should be fine." Cor said calmly, though she could detect a hint of bewilderment in his voice. "They made it, against all odds."

Iris couldn't help the sob of relief that escaped her throat as her legs folded beneath her, back sliding against the wall.

"Thank gods..." she cried.

* * *

Guns clutched tightly in their hands, the hunters advanced more deeply in the desolate Lucian Capital, ears strained and eyes peeled for the slightest movements. Nothing, no birds, barely the whisper of a distant breeze. Light of a new morning cascaded through the skeletal skyscrapers and the shards of glass glittered like stars at their feet. Bright, even through the shades the hunters wore over their unaccustomed eyes. The medics they had been escorting already left with their charge: three gravely wounded men who miraculously survived for who knows how long, out in the open, on the cold steps of the Citadel, unconscious. They were searching for any other sign of life beside those three. So far, no luck.

Something was happening here, it hung in the air, like an aura and made their hair stand on end. It did not feel hostile, though it warned them of an unspeakable power, one that could easily harm an unworthy. Burn them if they were to touch its source. And the feeling only got stronger as they climbed the steps of the Citadel, prickling their skins like static. The younger hunters shook in their boots once they entered the lobby. The lights were on, papers and touristic pamphlets scattered around under the layer of dust.

"Sir..." stammered a recruit, knuckles white around his loaded firearm." I believe we should not be here." Other hunters nodded at his comment and their Head Hunter turned to them, an eyebrow raised and observed their pale faces.

"The... _thing_ that killed the daemons might still be here," the young man continued. "We shouldn't approach anything that powerful."

The elevator made a soft ping as it arrived at their level.

"The strong light we saw from afar?"

The youths quickly nodded, eyes filled with anxiety.

"The same light that killed every speck of the Scourge...but spared the three men we just rescued...and every other living being across the world" the Head Hunter sighed as he stepped inside the elevator, but kept the door open behind him. "That thing never meant to hurt us I'm sure, if you're too scared to proceed you can stay back and search the streets, anybody else come with me. We have a job to do."

None agreed, claiming the heavy aura was getting to their heads, so their leader continued. He couldn't blame them. Everybody was on nerves, this was all new and seemed too good to be true, no wonder they preferred to stay at a distance. And it was true, the impressive aura that surrounded him only seemed to press down on him the further the elevator climbed.

It didn't take long to find the epicenter of the event that purged the daemons from their world. His vision twisted, as if he was looking at the world through a lens. The lights shone in the purest whites, the shadows like ink and motes of light floated eerily in the air, like otherworldly fireflies and his being shook like a gong was struck close to him.

The unspeakable power they all felt from afar was too close for comfort, but still did not harm him.

The doors open with another soft ping he barely heard over his ringing ears. He braced himself against the wall, thinking about going back down and calling it a day, but the symptoms did not get worse, but nor did they ease.

It felt like...standing on the border of two realities, between a dream-like state and consciousness

He took a deep breath and slowly made his way forward. The hallway opened up in a large antechamber, comfortable seats positioned all around the room, with a high ceiling. Paintings, magnificent, who seemed to be brimming with _life_ under the strange light basking the place. They adorned each wall, detailing the legend of the Genesis...And it all seemed familiar now...in a poetic sense, even though he never was an aficionado of mythology:

The myriad of demonic creatures crawling up from below as the Six sat there, helpless and looked up to the mysterious figures who reigned above them, a single unknown figure, with 3 Messengers at his side, channeling the power of the Goddess of the Dawn through him and rained swords upon the daemons below.

 _O'er rotted Soil, under blighted Sky, a Dread plague the Wicked has wrought_

The Genesis wasn't their past, but the rebirth of their world, their Dawn.

Tearing his eyes from the frescoes, he stumbled towards the open doors of the mighty Throne Room, where only the selected few could grace its walls. Even through the destruction that befell it during the Fall, it was magnificent evoking the riches of the Royals and history that dated back to the past Era. His gaze fell on the other end of the room, up on the dais, sitting on the Throne was a still silhouette, who looked to be peacefully sleeping.

Frail as the body looked, the aura poured from it in tidal waves because there sat the ascended King of Kings, the one who ruled over the Gods.


	2. Chapter 2

Cor called her once again to tell her Gladio and his friends had safely arrived in Lestallum and were currently treated at the nearest infirmary. She ran outside at break neck speed before Cor even had the time to hang up.

The other patients seemed confused at the commotion, nurses running around, whispering in hurried voices. Iris caught a few "how is that even possible" and "how are they not dead" on her way to where her brother rested.

Their beds were in a quiet corner, if it weren't for the continuous buzzing of medics, separated from the other patients with partitions.

The doctor raised his head as he saw her approach.

"How are—"

"They should be fine, miss Amiticia." He cut in, stopping her advance. "You may see them if you wish to."

Iris shakily nodded, still nervous, expecting to suddenly find out they had died when the doctor had his back turned. The man led her inside and between the wall of medics, she saw them: Pale, caked with dirt and soot that had hurriedly wiped off, limbs wrapped in gauze. Ignis and her brother's injuries were hidden under all the bandages that mummified them. Prompto's hands were incased in plaster and propped up. And peeking from underneath the edges of their bandages was the angry swelling and contorted mess of burnt skin. But as ghastly they looked, they looked peaceful and not the kind that she saw on the dead, the face of someone peacefully dreaming. How could this even be?

"Burns all over their bodies, even though there was no obvious signs of such an intense fire on the scene we found them. Broken bones and torn ligaments in his case." the doctor pointed at Prompto. "Other than that, cuts and bruises on all of them but...Their wounds are already mending, and faster than normal at that. In fact they were healing even before they were brought in...almost as if something was protecting them..."

"Protecting them?"

The man hesitantly nodded after a moment of consideration and for a moment, the meticulous work of the nurses was the only sound they heard.

"I've seen people survive horrible injuries, even worse than this...but for them to survive like this, out in the open, unconscious, with open wounds...should be impossible"

Iris blankly stared at her brother's sleeping face, wondering what could have happened, what could have gone through her brother's head. Gladio was a calculating man, she knew he wouldn't try to enter Insomnia on a whim, she knew that much. Not only him, but the three of them. They all had been busy, trying to survive and rarely met with each other anymore. Why the sudden need the reunite and head for a suicide mission?

 _...Could it be?_

She jumped at the hand on her shoulder.

"You can stay by his side if you wish."

The buzzing of medics eventually calmed down once the patients were declared stable. Iris was allowed to remain by her brother's side along with his wife, Monica, who arrived in a frenzy and who teared up the moment she saw her husband on the cot. The huntress was disheveled from rushing away from her station in Cleigne, and she still wa in her hunter gear. She bent over Gladio's side, assessing his state even after the doctor had briefed her. Monica briefly checked over the other two and she eventually slipped down on her chair, a bit more at ease, then lifted her eyes to Iris.

"I'm sorry", she said apologetically. "Hi, I hoped we wouldn't see each other again in such circumstances."

Iris shook her head. "No need to apologize. No one would have known this would've happened."

Monica nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again and they fell in a long silence, sparsely interrupting by a few short questions, asking how they've been and what they were going to do now that daylight had return. Time flowed slowly, the feeling amplified by the irritating ticking of a clock, which had been the only sound until a thundering crash broke the silence.

Both women jumped back to attention when the loud bang resounded at the entrance of the infirmary, followed by shouts and panicked voices. Monica got up before Iris had the time to, sticking her head out of the make-shift "room" her brother and his friends were kept in, still sleeping blissfully unaware. Though Ignis seemed to have jerked at a new loud yell before settling back into a relaxed state.

She heard Monica sigh as she trotted back to her chair once the commotion died down though there still was a flutter of feet in the distance.

"What was it?" asked Iris, chin planted in the thin mattress of her brother's bed.

"Some newbie hunters dragging their mentor in here. The guy looked completely out of his mind."

Iris blearily looked up at the clock 4pm. She had been sitting here for almost six hours already. Her bum hurt from keeping the same uncomfortable position on the very uncomfortable chair they gave her, but the grumbling of her stomach was even worse. She stood up and stretched.

"Going out, want me to get something to eat for you too?"

Monica nodded. "Anything will do."

So she ordered the simple soup for take-out from the nearest cantina, she didn't feel like bothering eating something fancy even though she well had enough funds to indulge herself. Hopefully something warm like this could brighten them up. But the meal was quickly forgotten once she stepped back into the room:

A movement, small, but just enough to catch her attention and Monica's. Ignis' hands had gripped his bed covers in a tight clutch, knuckles white. The bandages crinkled with his motions

Then a whimper escaped the injured man.

"Ignis?"

Monica rushed out of the room and Iris dropped the take-out bags at the feet of the bed, leaning over the advisor, observing him. He clearly was awake, even through the meds they had pumped in him, one milky eye open searching around the room for the minuscule specks of light he managed to see. There was another quiet whimper.

"Hey, hey don't move. You're safe now."

His lips moved, she did not hear his voice, but she read the single word upon his lips as clear as day.

 _Noct..._

Her blood ran cold. So her suspicions had been right then. They hadn't entered Insomnia just the three of them...their old friends had been with them. After all these years...

She took a step back, reeling from what this could imply.

The doctor and a nurse appeared in her field of view and immediately started working on Ignis, pushing her out of the way.

So it had happened...this crazy Prophecy her brother had told her about. The blinding light in the sky had been caused by Noctis ascending to the Throne.

He had done it.

The swell of pride she felt was quickly squashed by worry. Why hadn't he come back with the others? Was there a reason for him to remain in Insomnia? She hoped so.

"Misses Amiticia?"

"H-huh?" She hadn't even noticed the doctor had been talking to her. They seemed to have been done checking on the worn out advisor who seemed to have succumbed to sleep once more, probably from the cocktail of pain meds and antibiotics in his system.

"Do allow yourself a moment of rest. They're in good hands and are on the way to a miraculous recovery. Please take a moment for yourselves.

Monica sighed and slowly walked out of the room, almost drunkenly in her walk. Iris followed after her, picking up the discarded meal on her way.

She made sure to take a good breath once she was outside. It was true, she could let herself become a jumbled mess of nerves before Gladio even woke up.

With the influx of refugees in the recent years, people had been working on shifts, in constant rotations. But with the arrival of the day, people have been trying to revert to their natural routines, with more or less success. Streets were crowded, people were fighting for any day job they could find.

Lestallum was slowly turning back into what it once was, brimming with life, though it was more populous than before. Makeshift houses sprouting in every place they could.

People were itching to go back to their old homes.

But even the loud hubbub was soothing to Iris, better than cold worried silence inside the infirmary. She found Monica sitting on the porch, head in her hands, silent. Profound exhaustion rolled off her in waves. She wasn't the only one, both women were emotionally spent. Iris sat beside her sister-in-law, handing her the soup she had ordered

"Sorry, it's a bit cold now."

Monica mutely thanked her, and took a sip, too numb to care about the temperature of her meal. They sighed, looking tiredly at the distant setting sun, blurred by the fog of the still dissipating photophilic particles.

"What were they thinking?"

"Ignis…" Iris bit her lip "has been asking for Noctis when he woke up."

Surprise and shock was apparent and Monica's eyes.

"King Noctis? But we haven't heard of him since we hid him on Angelgard," her eyes seemed to become impossibly larger. "You don't mean…"

"My brother has been repeating…multiple times, that he'd come back one day, but... "Iris circled an arm around her knees and rubbed the tiredness from her face hopelessly. "I had hoped he'd at least drop by before heading to Insomnia. But he didn't come back with them..." she ended on a whisper and her throat tightened. "He has to be alive, right?"

She had to...they had to hold on to that hope.

As they settled into a thoughtful silence, the hum of a nearby conversation floated to them. A woman talking to her friend, both admiring the setting sun, thanking the Six for granting them the opportunity to see it. A harmless comment that would have stayed that way if a nearby man who also heard the conversation, hadn't broken down in tears.

"And such gods they are, never appearing once in those long ten of years of Darkness.

Iris and Monica exchanged a worried glance at each as the two female friends looked at the man with an offended expression on their faces.

"They have been protecting our World since the beginning" the woman replied, anger threatening to spill out. "The Star Scourge weakened them is all."

"'Protecting our World' you say?" scoffed the man, ignoring the glances thrown his way. "The Archaean almost made the region crumble because of its mood swings. And say that to any Altissian refugee after the Tide Mother destroyed their homes. Why didn't they lift a single finger as our friends and family were slaughtered by daemons? Why would they care for us? We are dirt to them!"

Other civilians had stopped and tried listening in without being too obvious, with much failure.

"The losses we had are tragic" conceded the woman, affront still visible on her face. "But they still gave us a future in the end."

"Oh no no" sobbed the man the scars of grief and the utter betrayal everyone had felt during those ten years evident on his face.

" Whoever or whatever saved us wasn't them."

* * *

It was late at night, he could feel it from the complete absence of light. Even over a muddled brain from exhaustion and pain meds, the incessant drone of the ventilation found a way to keep Ignis awake. Eye open onto the familiar darkness, but unfamiliar environment of an infirmary. Someone coughed in the distance.

Only the calm familiar breathing of his two friends soothed him, they were alive and how long has it been all of them sleeping close to one another. But there was another sleepy voice missing, he remembered, heart sinking. A quiet snore he had been missing for years.

As time had passed and feared he'd never see his King in his lifetime again, he had wished he'd be granted the chance for them to meet again, even for single day, and hang out together like the good old days before everything went downhill. His prayer had been answered and 'a single day' wasn't enough to soothe the re-opened wound his disappearance had left.

They had often checked up on him while he was stowed away on Angelgard, making sure the boat was functioning for the day Noctis would need to go back to the main land. They had tried approaching him, but whatever the Crystal was doing to him, kept him in a complete stasis. He never had the need to eat or any other bodily need and that was a good thing, because nobody had been able to touch him. Ignis, even with his very limited eyesight, managed to see the scorching unnatural light surrounding the body of his friend.

Hearing his voice again after ten years was a blessing and a curse at the same time. A curse because they've learned only moments later their joy wouldn't last until Dawn...and there was nothing do but accept it or resign themselves to a fate that would inevitably lead them to their deaths.

So they put on their smile to help Noctis carry out his destiny courageously, a destiny similar to the one of his forefathers. Painfully short lives they deserved to live at their fullest.

Ignis hoped their fallen friend would remain with them in a way, watching over them from the Beyond, at peace.

 _"Rule well, King of Lucis."_


	3. Chapter 3

"It's morning...isn't it." Ignis whispered, the words strange on his tongue.

Prompto struggled to crack his eyes open, his whole body numb from pain meds and joints stiff from all the bandages wrapped around him. He turned his gaze to the window on his right. A golden haze gently slipped through the pulled curtain, a light far different from the neon ones that had lit their world for a decade. Natural and soft.

"Yeah...", his voice came out as a strangled squeak. "It is..."

Ignis sighed, settling back onto his pillow, understanding the sad tone in Prompto's voice. This morning held a bittersweet meaning for them, the departure of an old friend who had weight to heavy on his shoulders. He had deserved to see this morning by their side so much.

There was a quiet knock against the metal frame of the partitions. Monica quietly slipped in.

"Good morning, I hope didn't bother you, " Monica whispered and Ignis shook his head. She sat on her familiar spot by her husband's bedside where he slept, his book covering his face where it fell down when sleep had claimed him by surprise just a few moments before dawn. Gladio had retreated behind his book the moment he saw an opportunity, not daring to talk about the eventual ticking time bomb they were sensing. Gladio probably was the one who took it the worst. Being trained since childhood to be the King's Shield, protect the King or die trying, only to fail his duty in the end. Even though he had no choice, it was a great blow to his moral.

Monica softly picked up the book from his face and smiled when she saw his sleepy eyes looking up at her, the hint of a smile in them, though Prompto could see the profound sadness in his gait.

"You never change, no matter what you go through," she said, kissing him lovingly.

"Any new get well wishes," asked Ignis, turning to Prompto desiring to leave the couple to their not-so-private privacy, but Monica replied instead.

"A bunch. the word got out and you have a lot of admirers" she pointed at the mountain of cards and gifts at the feet of their beds. Mostly from friends, hunters they've worked with or refugees they had helped in the past years. "'The miraculous hunters who survived Insomnia'" she quoted. "Be ready to face hordes of fans and being asked the same questions over and over."

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Gladio quietly chuckled and his wife bopped him on the head with his book.

"You better keep your ego in check, mister."

"Why isn't Iris with you today. Busy?"

Monica hummed in affirmation.

"She's helping Cindy. And boys, you better be ready, she will get you under her thumb the moment you step out of this place.

Ignis rose an eyebrow in amusement. Cindy always eager to slave them away. "Going back to the old routine will do us good for a while."

There was a sad quiet scoff from Prompto's part.

"If only, it's not like I'd ever be able to join you guys again," Prompto mumbled, pointing to his heavily bandaged hands with his chin. "There's no way I could fire w..."

"...What is it?"

Gladio instantly worried about the young man, noting the strange way he blanched, looking down at his bandaged hands. Prompto's lips trembled.

"No..." he uttered, eyes wide after a long moment of stunned silence. "This can't be..."

Gladio's quickly rising worry was replaced by incredulity when familiar blue sparks crackled between Prompto's hands. The man yelped as he dropped the object onto his lap, clutching his hurt hands against his chest.

Against his knee rested the last gun he had pulled from Noctis' arsenal, pristine as ever.

"How?" he cried out, tears of shock trickling down his cheeks. "How can we still be Sworn to him?!"

* * *

The air of Insomnia felt clearer, no more pressing weight upon their shoulders or strange feeling that buzzed under their skin. But the Citadel was still a different story. The receding aura gave an opportunity to the hunters and a few helpful civilians to start cleaning the place for the fateful day where the walls of the secluded city-state of Lucis will house families once more, its citizens finally returning home.

So far, the city was in pretty good shape, except a single area where it looked like giants took the district as a wrestling arena. The rest was simply desolate. Bicycles and rusty abandoned cars, doors left open as their owners had to rush out on foot when Insomnia was quickly evacuated ten years ago. They littered the streets. Old garbage turned into an unidentified mush on the pavement from the rain perfumed the air with a scent of mold.

An impressive amount has already been cleaned by the eager workers, but the city, to their dismay, suffered a serious case of "broken infrastructures". Electricity still worked in some districts but plumbing was completely inoperable and the streets, hard to drive on, especially with the colossal bulks of crashed Niflheim drop ships sprouting all over the place like odd flowers.

So the improvised cleanup crew camped in the shops on the outskirts of the city, using the river as their source of water, and a few hunters doing rounds at night for the curious wildlife that wandered into Insomnia in search of food. Ten years of darkness had been harsh on that regard.

Cor had stayed behind in Insomnia instead of following the three miraculous survivors to Lestallum so he could help with the restoration and coordinate the efforts, which was greatly needed. Many volunteers had never set foot in the legendary Insomnia and were constantly gawking at the unique technology that had boomed behind the Wall, the cars, the dusty TVs still exposed in shop windows, architectures and more.

Many had voiced their excitement to restore the city to its past splendor and finally explore the marvels of its isolated culture. The brief glimpses they had from the medias covering the botched treaty signing had been far from satisfying to them.

By midday they all took a break to satiate their hunger, sitting on the curb under a hot sun, chatting happily while Cor stopped mid-bite, having caught a shadow sweep above him. Massive glittering wings that didn't move air as it flew by. The silhouette disappeared just behind the skyscraper at the corner of his vision.

Taking a good look at his crew, estimating if he had to time to leave unnoticed before the end of the meal, he slipped away the sound of chatter muffled by the walls of concrete. Cor made his way onto the parking lot of an office building bordering a small street.

" _Your men should wait another week before advancing closer to the Citadel_ ," a rumbling voice hummed into an Archaic dialect he hadn't heard in decades, a strange mix of deformed syllables, sounds unpronounceable on a human tongue. Thankfully, it was still understandable to him even after so many years. A perk of being a Messenger . " _Or they will meet a fate identical to the man who dared,_ " the voice continued.

Cor lifted his eyes to the towering figure perched atop the building, dark armor, gold trimming, sharp blades folded behind it as wings and rich red sashes swaying to the wind. The man squinted at Bahamut, trying to discern an emotion in the god's eyes but the sun behind him casted his massive frame in sharp shadows. Not that the King of the Astral was expressive in any way, his face always hidden behind a haunting mask.

"So there is something happening in the Citadel. Something more than the King of Light fulfilling his duty?" Cor dared to ask with a pang, thinking about the boy he had seen grown to maturity, just like his forefathers before him, except that he had been the King with the tightest leash of his bloodline, destined to be a martyr. A sad fate.

Bahamut hummed in a tone that was either pensive or in agreement, Cor couldn't tell.

" _No human is meant to walk the rift between the Realms, such sight is beyond their comprehension_ ," he said cryptically." _But the Wound is mending as we speak, and humans can reclaim Insomnia once more._ "

"A Wound between Realms?" the marshal frowned. Then he saw a change of composure in the god, wings drooping ever so slightly and the voice hummed deeper.

" _The Scourge of the Stars...born from our blood._ _It was our own corrupted blood that almost doomed all of Creation. Our prides had to pay the price. This_ incident _never should have happened eons ago._ "

"Solheim's technological advancements have been lost through time, and the little Niflheim had salvaged should be useless with the Accursed gone. No mortal should be able to use Chaos energy any time soon."

It took a while for the armor-clad silhouette to speak again, seemingly lost in thoughts.

" _How long will it take for mortals to realize Light and Chaos are one and the same?_ "

A rhetoric question and Cor bitterly knew the answer to that. He had heard people talking in quiet whispers in those long ten years, he heard many words that foreshadowed a radical shift in the future of Eos.

"People are already doubting the benevolence of the Six due to your long silence during the Scourge." And Cor couldn't help but feel disappointed in them as well. The Scourge may have been dangerous for the gods as being exposed too long to corrupted Chaos would have them risk losing their minds like Ifrit, but a single word, or a hint of their presence would have appeased the worries of everyone. But they had remained stubbornly silent and safe until the fated hour arrived.

Shiva had technically helped, but she had remained under her human disguise for a reason Cor could not fathom, watching the faith in the Six drop hour by hour, until only scorn was left. "There has been unrest in certain regions and a vocal minority proclaims that the Hexatheon despises humanity."

Bahamut's eyes weighed heavily on him, but the marshall fought the urge to drop his gaze. He quickly checked his watch, lunch break was almost over, he had to rejoin his men soon, but first...

"You still haven't answered what has happened inside the Citadel."

" _They ascended, as the songs of yore have foretold_." Bahamut turned his head towards the Citadel's towers. " _And they look down, from_ _the highest floor, enthralled by their own Creation, tucked away from mortal eyes_." sensing Cor's question he continued. " _The King carried out his Providence and ascended to the Realm between ours and the next. The Oracle and him rule that Realm_."

Cor was reeling. They had survived?

"They ascended as...gods?"

Bahamut bowed his massive head as a nod, golden and black tail curling behind him.

"What does that mean to the Hexatheon?"

The rumble that came from the god felt ominous, as if speaking out a grave omen.

" _That the Six are no longer the Highest gods_."

* * *

Noctis hummed pleasantly as Luna helped him wash away the grime caked on his scalp. He had been disappointed at first to notice that he was still just as scruffy even in the afterlife, matted hair, unkempt beard, cocktailed with the smell of sweat and blood. Quite a mess. But said opinion quickly disappeared as Luna's fingers worked against his head in a heavenly massage. He even forgot the uncomfortable feeling of his damp pants and underwear as he sat in the shower of his old suite, a loaf forgotten in his hands as he let his would-have-been-fiancée do wonders. Washing his upper body could wait.

"Here you go," she said after rinsing off the suds in Noctis' hair. "I'll leave the rest to you."

He waited until she disappeared to chuck his soaked clothes in the hamper and quickly started scrubbing himself until it didn't feel like a layer of oil covered his skin. Washing back at the camp before they entered Insomnia had been far from satisfying.

Standing in front of the mirror above the sink, he took a good at his face for the first time since he woke up on Angelgard. The soft features he bore from his mother were slowly making place for ones similar to his father, though the exotic slanted eyes of his mother still remained and even looked sharper than ever. He was shocked to notice a glint of red in his irises as his eyes darted across his face. It wasn't much, definitely not as intense as when he summoned forth an Astral. Prompto had jokingly commented that Noctis looked like a demon lord from the underworld and Noctis had to agree once his friend showed him a picture he took in battle.

He did not look like a demon lord anymore, but this remnant of red intrigued him.

He passed a hand over his beard, rough and itchy, but not looking too bad now that his was relatively clean, but the itchiness was a better counter argument. He found his old razor, which still looked a bit sharp. The shaving cream he had bought long ago, hoping to appear older and mature was another story. He tentatively brought the wet blade under his chin and groaned at the painful pull against his skin.

"What are you doing," Luna chuckled from the bathroom entrance and Noctis clutched at the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Shaving, what else." He glanced at her reflection in the mirror as she came to stand behind him observing his poor attempt and then she sighed and grabbed the conditioner bottle they had left beside the bath.

"Would that be better Your Majesty," she teased with a glint in her eyes he hadn't seen in forever.

"You seem to know quite a lot about shaving."

And Luna rose an eyebrow at the remark, unimpressed. Ah right...Noctis mentally kicked himself. Women aren't hairless.

Noctis sneezed as he lathered up the conditioner on his beard, the strong smell of chemicals burning his nostrils.

"Mmm...can I?" hummed the woman behind him.

"Huh?"

She plucked the razor from Noctis' grip and her fingers caressed his face, almost lovingly, tilting his chin up. Heat rushed to his head and he closed his eyes, partly from embarrassment and partly from the small shivers running up his spine as she gently glided the blade over his skin, her thumb kissing his cheek.

He swallowed thickly as she passed over his throat, the thrill of being at her mercy, though he was certain she would never harm him...

"Are you sure you even aged?"

Noctis blinked, chasing away the haze that had clouded his mind. He cleared his throat.

Luna had her head tilted in curiosity as she looked at his half-shaven face. His left bearded side looked definitely more mature and manly. Okay, he preferred the beard, the itch be damned.

"Mmm..." the playful glint reappeared in her eyes and he couldn't help but feel the rising fear in him. "I'm not even sure hair can grow back here. What a shame."

So she preferred the beard too then. He was pleased to know. Noctis then understood the glint in her eyes as he saw her sneakily try to exit the bathroom without finishing her job, the razor still in hand.

"Oh no you don't!"

She escaped with a cackle into the suite, where Noctis eventually caught her after a hard chase, making sure to not drop his towel, and forced her to finish the job, but not before she managed to shave silly patterns onto his face.


	4. Chapter 4

"I thought Bahamut would have warned you about your fate, like Gentiana was the one who told me."

"No. I wasn't told anything," Noctis mumbled, hopelessly rubbing the sleep from his face.

It was morning and he desperately wanted to stay in bed, not that anything stopped him actually, now that he thought about it. He had no duty to attend to, no food to hunt for, no need to hide from Imperials. It was his own bed, his own suite in the Citadel. He was completely free. But he's certain Luna wouldn't like such a lazy routine. She had been a bigger public figure with a charged agenda, way more present in the public eye that he had been. She had jumped out of bed the moment she could formulate a coherent thought, jostling Noctis awake, which had surprised him since he's usually able to sleep through Gladiolus' worst snoring session. He guessed sleep wasn't needed in this place.

It had felt quite nostalgic, sleeping together. She had often slept beside the bed-ridden prince when they were young, huddled together under piles of fairy-tale books.

"He just said that eliminating the Scourge would cost my life."

Noctis slid a finger against his midriff where the skin was still a bit tender when he put a bit of pressure, but everything was healed, though he still sported the stretched scar on his back he earned as a child. He wondered if Luna felt a similar pain where Ardyn stabbed her.

Ardyn.

 _Killing you as a mortal will bring me scant satisfaction_

He remembered those words and the confusion it brought him when Ardyn first said them. But it made sense now. Ardyn must've known the fate that awaited the True King beyond death as it was his destiny beforehand. Was this why Bahamut refused to tell him? In case he got power hungry? But that hasn't been the case with Ardyn. The human part of the old Caelum had been bent on taking out his own bloodline who had tortured him through the ages and at the same time fulfilling his old destiny, not power. He had searched for the occasion to create the perfect scenario for the King of Light to come to him.

So why did Bahamut feel the need to omit such thing?

The vague, but mesmerizing shadow of Luna he saw behind the partition as she changed clothes paused as she took in his words.

"...even knowing what awaited me after the end, was hard, I stayed strong as long as I could...but the moment I came face-to-face with death...I still felt scared." She whispered, finally stepping out in a more casual outfit, she stopped at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and a sad look on her face. "I can't imagine what it must've been like for you."

"It wasn't that hard for me, but for my friends...It probably was harder for them." Noctis said, fidgeting and he played with the black and gold silk of the bed covers. "I've known for a long time that my life would be short. Like it has been for my father and grandfather, it has been that way since the creation of the Wall. I also knew I might become a Lucii and continue living that way. Not that different from what we have now."

"You made peace with death..."

Noctis nodded, sitting up. "I did for years but...I didn't want to part with them like that."

"Noctis..."

He hid his burning eyes in his palm, silent, taking deep breaths. He still remembered their face when he told them; the deep sorrow, the helplessness, the anger in their eyes.

With everything they've been through together, he never has seen them cry and it reminded him of the wound he would leave by departing as he probably already had when he had been pulled into the Crystal ten years prior. He had never wanted to cause them pain, them who chose to stay by his side when it would have been easier to stay far away from him. His tears trickled down as warm arms smothered in him in their embrace, Luna's scent slowly soothing his heartache.

"They were still with you till the very end," she murmured, threading her fingers through his hair. "They stood tall..."

Noctis stiffened underneath her.

"They-?"

"I was watching over you. They are fine, I made sure of it."

He sighed, hugging her back, uttering a quiet thank you.

"Do you wish to see them?"

"What kind of question is that," Noctis chuckled and he felt her smile against his hair.

* * *

The heat hit them like a truck at full speed and Noctis choked on his breath. He had forgotten how blistering hot it could get in Lestallum. Heat radiating from the pavement and the metal pipes and lamp posts were hot white, Noctis was sure of it. But it was the only similarity, this Lestallum looked quite different, like a patchwork with new infrastructures added to survive the ten years of darkness and the boom of refugees. He wouldn't have recognized the place without the heat and the Exineris installations. Luna patted Umbra's head, thanking him for showing them the shortcut, before the Messenger dog happily sauntered away.

Noctis expected some stares directed at them from their unusual arrival, but there were none. Like ghosts, people phased through them as they all seem to group up on the main avenue around the small cantina at the back. They truly were in another dimension. He wasn't sure if they were the ethereal ones or the mortal world was presented to them as holograms, it was...strange.

The excited chatter grew louder as Noctis and Luna got closer and beyond the wall of heads between them and the main attraction, Noctis recognized their faces and tears welled up in his eyes. Fine, they were truly fine. There was a woman, arm coiled around Gladio's waist as gaggles of girls were trying to hog him. Poor Ignis seemed completely out of his elements, probably drowning in the cacophonic sounds surrounding him, though a shy smile ghosted his face.

 _'You survived Insomnia!'_ ,

 _'You saw what happened there?'_ ,

 _'You are my heroes'_ , shouted kids.

"EVERYONE!", bellowed a man, whom Noctis shockingly recognized as an older Dino, the same smug look ever present on his face giving him away. "There is no need for so much chatter. I offered myself to write about everything that happened in full detail according to their testimonies. The article should soon be published in the newspapers. Your curiosity shall be satisfied."

There were a few disgruntled moans of disappointment and the crowd slowly dispersed though a few remain to oggle them from a distance. The woman who had an arm around Gladio remained. Was...that Monica. So his friend did end up finding a girl.

Noctis looked around with worry.

"Where's Prompto?"

"The blond one?" inquired Luna. "He was quite badly injured before the Dawn arrived. He's probably still hospitalized."

Noctis gave a last look to his two friends who Dino invited to sit back down at their tables, pulling out a notebook and a pen. Gladio looked sadden, but resolute.

They eventually found an infirmary after a long search through the newly expanded Lestallum. Luna gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze as she stayed by the entrance, giving him his space. He could _feel_ Prompto's presence, the link to his old Sword Sworn was strong, like the ones he can still feel to Ignis and Gladio. He was alive.

The infirmary was filled with cots almost piling onto each other and a few areas were isolated with partitions, probably for the most serious patients. Most beds were empty but the few people remaining were injured hunters, either from wildlife or daemons before the Dawn.

Then he found Prompto.

Still laying in bed, his skin was still a bit fresh and pink and his arms were wrapped up. Even more bandages were peeking out of his collar. There was a nurse silently checking on his wounds as the young man looked out the window.

"How are my hands?" Prompto quietly asked, still looking outside.

The nurse's movement stilled and she sighed. "You will be able to use your hands but..."

"Not like before," he cut in, the look in his eyes hardening, and Noctis had the sudden urge to comfort him. "I still want to shoot. I don't want to be left behind."

Prompto glanced at his bedside table and Noctis' heart jumped to his throat when he noticed something on its surface: a gun he remembers Prompto summoning to fight.

Were his powers still active? And Prompto was aware...

"YOU!"

The nurse release a loud yelp and everyone jumped in their skin, turning to the door. A disheveled sandy-haired man stood there, his hand gripped on the partition almost ripping it off its hooks and eyes wide in shock...and what looked like reverence in them...looking straight at Noctis.

The King back off against the wall, how could this be? He must be looking at something else, but he wasn't. The man dropped to his knees.

"The songs and the Genesis were right!" he uttered frantically as he tried to wrestle away from the nurse who tried to usher him out. "I knew I wasn't insane, the True King has come."

The man shouted at the top of his lungs when other nurses broke in and he was wrestled outside.

"What was that about!" Prompto cried out, shaking with a barely reined in anger at his nurse when she came back. She couldn't answer and neither could Noctis. He shook, heart beating and mind reeling at the possible consequences of this man knowing about his current state. And how could he even know? How could he see him? He hadn't left anything that hinted at something supernatural happening when he died. His body had remained there, on the throne, and might still even be there, Noctis hadn't dared to go back to the Throne Room and see his own corpse.

He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Gladio took a deep breath, face in his hands and his stomach in knots as Dino thanked them and walked away, filled notebook in hand. Ignis rubbed his back. It had brought back so many memories, fond ones, emotional ones, bad ones and ones he would rather forget, but he cherished them all.

"I didn't want him to be remembered for anything less than he was," said Gladio, throat tight, sitting back. "He deserves all the praise in the world."

* * *

The aura still clung to the air, but it wasn't noxious like it used to be. It barely felt like a numb pain behind Cor's eyes as he proceeded up the familiar stretch of the Throne Room, eyes locked onto the seat which still radiated with unspeakable power. Probably because a King still sat there. King Noctis looked peacefully asleep and the image wouldn't have been disturbed if it weren't for the smell of death and the sword anchored into his body. But Cor knew there was more than the body of an old friend's son before him.

Cor could imagine it, the True King, standing beside his Throne, one hand gripping the armrest as he watched the Messenger walk up to him, sharp eyes following his every movement. By his side would be the new Goddess, the embodiment of the of the Light in its most raw form. A being with access to a power no one should have the right to wield. The Light was an amoral power, a force of nature obeying to its own laws and too dangerous in the hands of an emotive being.

But Cor had to recognize his place. He was but a Messenger to an Astral who considered the new gods above as something beyond even the Hexatheon's grasp.

" _'God sleeps and his children start a fire, which they never extinguish and he will never be able to awaken. Every tragedy divides, before our very, the things which ought be loved'_ I'm sure you remember Somnus, this song of yore, as your nanny has sung it to you as a lullaby."

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at the body. It looked ghastly, discolored skin and dark blood leaking from its nose and mouth.

Cor bowed courteously.

" _'And in this endless night, in desperation, he can see the dawn, that will awake him in the next morning'_ ", he finished, almost expecting an answer, a booming voice from above or the body to jolt awake, but only silence responded to him. "I'm sure you have realized this song talks about you. The everlasting fire your _children_ have started in your memory could lead Eos to a bright future...or could set this world ablaze."

Cor gritted his teeth, torn between where his allegiances were: The Astral he served and who granted him to chance to help the people of Lucis throughout the ages, or the heir of an old friend. But something larger was at stake here. He frowned, his gaze harsh on the Throne and its silent King.

"I must ask you to stay put and let the Astrals pick things up from here...Your Majesties."


	5. Chapter 5

Cor paced across the dim-lit corridors of a morgue they recently refurbished out of necessity. The cold lights flickered adding to the eerie atmosphere and the air smelled of the gross combination of dust and an overdose of cleaning agents in desperate hopes to make the place functional. The marshal gripped his phone tightly against his ear to anchor himself away from the daemons he could imagine crawling in the shadows.

" _Squad B finished cleaning the History Hall ten minutes ago_ ," said Talcott's voice with a light crackle through the speakers. " _They are now progressing to the Audience chamber_."

"And what about the Throne Room?"

" _U-um, we inspected it_."

"No work has started yet?" inquired Cor with a frown.

" _There's too much rubble and we don't have the equipment to clear it._ "

"Get them ASAP. We will have a memorial for the restoration of Insomnia and the people will want to commemorate King Noctis in the Citadel. And sooner the memorial, the better, so we can move on."

" _Cor?_ " Talcott's voice was worried.

The marshal was anxious about the whole situation. _Something_ had been posted in the papers the day before, and from the crowd's reaction, Cor knew it would get worse. People had swooned over the heartfelt tale of the hidden King that had breathed, walked among them and helped them. A King of the people, never brandishing his title. He was a mysterious face, an icon wrapped in symbolism, who died heroically to give them a tomorrow. An embellished depiction of the King who Cor knew to have many flaws as outbursts to negative emotions and a need to seek out approval.

The population was asking for more, more of his stories. And Cor feared the moment more of those stories would be revealed. The legend would get a name, a face to worship. Thus the late Oracle, lady Lunafreya would be elevated to the same rank in people's mind and possibly higher as the two of them have been a destined pair in people's eyes.

Whether the new gods stoke the flames or not, a revolution was coming. The scale of it was still up to speculation: an ephemeral discontentment, a trend or a riot that could change Eos forever.

Cor hoped from all his heart it would be the former. They had just begun picking up the pieces, they weren't ready for such drastic changes, especially when said changes weren't needed. The Six had safeguarded the World for eons. The Starscourge was but a mishap that will never happen again. Gods who weren't needed should remain in the shadows. The Six better be making their move soon.

"Keep the restoration of the Throne Room as your priority", clarified Cor. "The rest can wait."

" _O-ok...sir._ "

Cor hung up, head thumping against the wall behind him.

"What a mess," he sighed pinched the bridge of his nose. He pocketed his phone and steeled himself to enter the cold room and the sight that would meet him there. As much as the young man would bring the Astrals trouble, by extention Cor as well, he was still sadden to see him lying still on the cold steel table, stripped down with only a sheet to cover his modesty.

Every King and Queen's passing had been ceremonial, almost religious, too many pointless flourishes for Cor's tastes, who had seen the ritual repeated for many generations, but quite fitting for a divine bloodline. To see the very last member of this long lasting family, laying on a laboratory table, in a run-down morgue on the outskirts of Insomnia, being prepared by the first embalmer Cor encountered, because the body couldn't be preserved forever, was the a real tragedy. He deserved much more as a Caelum and so did his father whose body they never found. The only memento they had of Regis Caelum was the sword currently resting on a nearby cart, it's blade now clean. They usually buried their monarch with their emblematic weapon, Noctis would've had his Engine blade resting atop his coffin but his sword hadn't been summoned out before death, so his father's sword would have to do.

"What do you plan to do with the body" the embalmer asked and Cor accidently glimpsed at the trocar in his hand with the tip planted in the King's abdomen. Cor closed his eyes. "He's still in good enough shape to be exposed," the man continued seemingly oblivious to the other man's discomfort.

Cor took a tentative glance at the defunct young man and had to concede he almost looked alive now. The skin was glowing with the mixture of products flushed through his veins and the blood had been cleaned.

"To the mausoleum until a crypt can be made for him," he coughed, trying to expulse the acrid smell of the formalhyde from his lungs, but he just sucked some more in with his next breath. He couldn't wait for this to be over.

"I wasn't sure if I'd try cutting the hair," said the embalmer pointing at something laying close to King Noctis's face. A picture. "I won't be able to replicate that haircut. I still have to decide for the facial hair. It would help for the make-up though. And because I think the beard wasn't intentional. Looked more like he forgot his razor for a week or two."

"No, keep it. This how his friends last saw him." And because Cor couldn't help but recognize the face of an old friend upon those features.

Cor observed the picture he now held between his fingers. The King was but a prince when the photograph was snapped, him surrounded by his friends, Monica, Cid, Cor himself and the King was holding the shoulder of a younger Talcott. Everyone was smiling brightly.

"Where did you find this?" asked Cor, his mind automatically drifting to the friend who had photographed the King's journey. Was he giving away pictures of the King?

"I found it in his breast pocket, good thing it hasn't been stained or I would've had a hard time posing the face correctly."

"Mmm, do you mind if I take it?"

"After I'm done, no problem."

Cor sighed, putting the picture down and waved goodbye to the embalmer who was engrossed in his work.

"One last thing," added Cor, stopping in his tracks in the door frame. "Please keep the identity and location of this body a secret."

* * *

Gladio smacked his lips in appreciation after a chugging a nice gulp of beer. Perfect remedy and reward after a long day of work and to soothe his toiling thoughts. Ignis groaned, massaging the tense muscles in his shoulders. The Shield sat back, sprawling a heavy arm along the back of the bench they were sitting on at the belvedere overlooking Duscae and the Chasm.

"We probably should have waited a bit longer before going back to work," Gladio chuckled.

"Cindy is the one who should have spared us."

Gladio slapped his friend's back who yelped at the jolt.

"It did us good nonetheless."

"Mind if I join you?" A quiet voice said behind. Prompto had arrived, looking tired but better than before, though his right hand was wrapped in a stiff blue brace.

"No need to ask."

"Don't worry, you haven't missed much. Cindy made us run usual errands."

The gunner nodded and sat between them on the bench to enjoy the view or the sunlight in Ignis case. For a moment, they remained silent, basking in the comfort of their familiar presence, but Prompto's incessant fidgeting was getting annoying as the silence stretched.

"Out with it."

They all could feel that something was bothering Prompto really bad. The blond took a deep breath and pulled out his gun from his pocket to put on his lap, a hand resting over it protectively. Gladio refrained the urge to tell he would have more than injured hands if he stored his weapon like that, but would keep it for later.

"Sword Sworns are supposed to lose their abilities the moment their Patrons die...and yet..." he pointed at the gun on his lap. "We can all summon our old weapons at ease."

"Prompto don't..." They all knew where this was going, they already had this conversation.

"But Gladio-"

"Denial won't do you any good. He can't be alive." Gladio said, his voice rising in volume. Prompto bit his lip in anger. "We saw it, in that... strange place after the flash of Light. The Ring was tearing him to shreds, burning him from the inside."

Gladio gripped his hair, taking a good breath. He shouldn't be mad at Prompto, he was taking it harder than everyone else, Noctis had been his one and only friend before he met them, and even then Noctis was still his best friend. And they had all entertained the inkling of hope their King had survived, defied his fate in some way or another. But the complete silence from Citadel or his absence among the injured was a dead give-away to what happened to him.

"Noctis said he would 'leave it to us'. He probably transferred some his abilities to us without knowing."

Prompto shook his head.

"There's more. Yesterday, while you were getting interviewed there was...this crazy dude who broke into our room. You know the one that kept waking us up because he was shouting poetry in the middle of the night," Prompto said, Gladio and Ignis nodded in remembrance. "Well, our nurse told me he's a hunter who entered the Citadel the day we were rescued...and he saw something."

 _Noctis..._ Ignis involuntarily shivered, he did not want to think in what state his protégé ended up, and feared his death hadn't been quick and painless.

"The guy kept saying he saw the ascended True King. And that he was alive."

"Prompto," Ignis cut in, voice sharp. "It's as you said, the man is crazy-"

"He saw Noct again, yesterday," Prompto shouted, standing up and Ignis jumped at his voice. "Said he was right beside me. Nobody knew we had anything to do with the King before the release of the article. This is too much of a coincidence "

They still looked at him in disbelief and Prompto could understand them. The wounds had been already re-opened with Noct's return, and nobody wanted to make them deeper, but the incidents were too odd to disregard them. Something was happening and Prompto did not want to dismiss it, especially if it involved his childhood friend.

"And remember, we aren't supposed to be breathing right now? The nurses said our case was miraculous."

And to that they all agreed.

"Noctis can't just simply be dead. He's watching over us I'm sure of it."

* * *

There were people inside the Citadel.

Not an uncommon sight for Noctis as the building had attracted a lot of civilians to its first few floors, but seeing them on the upper floors, the Audience Hall, the Throne Room... it almost felt like an invasion. Only a select few ever set foot in those room as it has been tradition for ages. But he had to concede that the building wasn't truly his family's anymore, even if he still lived on the outskirts of reality. And those people were there to clean the place.

Noctis and Luna were observed them mile around like worker bees, dusting off every surface, mopping the floors and dumping as much rubble as they could through the huge hole in the wall, the shortest route to the outside. Nobody had dared trying to move the Crystal from the spot it was suspended, above the Throne, where Noctis and Luna currently sat, in fear they would damage it. Though the Crystal seemed to only be there for sentimental value as its Light was extinguished.

Noctis had hesitated entering the room, fearing his dead body would be there, but Luna confirmed him it has been moved already, to a place he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He preferred imagining he was still in his actual body to keep his sanity.

The presence of Talcott had been an added bonus. The young hunter was the one directing the operations, occasionally receiving feedback from other clean-up crews through his phone. Noctis had enjoyed his company as a young innocent boy, he had been upset to know he had missed the last years of his youthful innocence when he picked him at Galdin Quay. This will have to do.

"What kind of memorial do they expect to be held here," a worker asked Talcott who was checking a few things on his phone. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Post-mortem coronation according to the marshal." the young said, pocketing his phone and picking up his broom. "And other people in Lestallum talk about including lady Lunafreya in the ceremony to symbolize the new peace."

Noctis awkwardly looked over at Luna who had a faint blush across her cheeks. Their eyes met.

"If you'll have me," she simply said with a short polite bow and Noctis was at a loss for words. Luna actually wanted to participate in this post-mortem ceremony. She still cared about what their union would've meant for the people. And what was the harm in participating in their own way, they could never actually take the pledge.

No harm in having fun.

"My lady." Noctis grabbed her hand with a playful smile and he gently kissed the back of it as he had often done at the political dinners back when he lived in Insomnia as a prince. "I will gladly accept you as my Queen to be."

"I hope they won't start cleaning in here anytime soon," Luna whispered from somewhere under the blankets. Noctis cracked an eye open and smiled at the head that popped out of the sheets. Her hair was already mussed and her eyes sleepy.

"I'm sure they would be quite confused about our cleanliness."

"My cleanliness," she retorted with laughter in her voice. "Without me the place would be like a-"

Noctis shoved a finger against her lips, her surprised warm breath ghosting over his skin. He thought he could see a blush in the darkness.

"Please, do not harm my honor."

She chuckled, nuzzling the pillow underneath her cheek. Noctis felt ready to go to sleep, but he still had a lot trotting in his head.

"Say, Luna."

"Hmm?"

"What are we supposed to do here?" Ever since the crazed man had seen him in Lestallum, an event that had worried Luna greatly, had been on his mind ever since. They were gods apparently, but he had no idea what the job entailed. Did he gain powers didn't of? He didn't have the time to check if he could wield his magic yet.

"From what Gentiana told me," Luna said. "I'm a prophesized goddess said to rule a new Era, called Eos by the worshipers. Eos, Goddess of the Dawn. As for you, I don't know. I can feel Light in you, but..."

Her hands pressed against the scar on his back.

"My Light and those of the Astrals is akin to an elemental force, but yours is different, more chaotic "

"You don't mean...," Noctis eyes grew wide. "I thought your mother removed the infection.

"She did, but such wounds stay vulnerable for the rest of your life. You came across many daemons, it's possible you got infected again. Rising aggression, outbursts."

Noctis swallowed. He remembered the rage he had felt brewing inside when they left Altissia, his unusual indifference to Ignis' state, the way he had snapped at everyone...and the facility Ardyn had been able to play with his mind like when he played with his daemons like puppets. He had been no more than another puppet to him. This had all calmed down the moment he had entered the Crystal, his infection sealed off.

"So I carried a bit of the Starscourge in me to this place..."

"I don't think so," Luna said, caressing his back to comfort him. "It feels a lot more tame than the Scourge I cured back then. It should be completely safe."

Noctis mutedly nodded and both of them perked up when their door opened. Luna lifted herself on her elbows, face beaming when she recognized the fluffy dark mane who entered the room. Umbra sprang onto the bed happily and Noctis huffed, winded when a paw stomped down on his belly, the pain of his past injury flaring for a moment.

Luna grabbed the letter attached to the dog's collar, then guided him off the mattress. She turned the table lamp on and she smiled sadly as she read the content of the letter and just as Noctis was about to ask what was written, she handed it to him. He nervously took it and started reading.

" _Dear Luna,_

 _Even though a part of me regrets not finding a way to circumvent the ending of both your destinies, I am proud of the courage you and my son had facing such an unfair fate._

 _I now sit amongst old friends, family and my dear Aulea, whom I had not seen in a long time, but one dear to me is missing. I have searched for my son everywhere, but I have seen no sign of him. The Gatekeeper claims he never saw him cross. I fear that my son may have suffered a fate far worse than death._

 _I implore you to help me look for him and guide his soul to the Gate or give him peace in the Void if it's too late._

 _-Regis_ "

Noctis hands shook as he fought to swallow down the knot in his throat. How could he have forgotten his father, and how could he have forgotten the possibility of finally meeting his mother. He never had been this close to seeing them again.

"You should be the one replying to him," she whispered.

Noctis wasn't sure what he would write back, his relationship to his father had been an arduous one: barely seeing each through all over their duties, him being away from the Citadel, his father getting sick. But even through that, Noctis knew his father had cared deeply, he felt his care. But his absence had left marks onto the son. They had become two individuals living in two very distinct realities. How could he bridge the gap without making a klutz of himself.

"I will," he replied as he put the letter on the table and with a smile, he caressed her cheek in thanks, but his touch lingered on her warm skin, marveling at its smooth texture, and then he felt it, the sudden change in the atmosphere. Her gaze remained fixed into his until it flickered to his lips. His heart jumped to his throat as she shuffled closer, fighting against the weight of the covers. Her fingers slipped into his hair, caressing the locks at his nape. He shivered under her touch and her warmth as she closed in. All thoughts fled his mind when her warmth spread across his lips, making his breath itch. He shyly responded with his inexperience, mimicking the slow dance of her lips. His heartbeat throbbed almost painfully through his whole body and his hands itched to grip something but one of them was still stubbornly cupping her cheek. But before Noctis could act out on his urge, she inched back, her fingers tracing his features, he could feel her giddiness in the way they trembled. Luna snaked an arm around his back, tucked herself under his chin and sighed in quiet delight. He felt her relax, ready to head to sleep basking in her contentment. Noctis swallowed nervously, hesitantly putting his arm around her, unsure if this what she wanted. He could almost hear Gladio screaming at his cluelessness.

This was an abrupt step forward. He tried to process all of what it could entail and it made him anxious. The arranged marriage had been nothing: signatures on a paper, a heavily rehearsed ceremony broadcasted all over Eos and finally spending time with an old friend. He never equated it to a relationship. That's what Luna implied wanting by kissing him right?

So for her participating in the upcoming ceremony wasn't just for fun then...

This...was personal and on an intimate level he never fathomed to reach. He had been raised thinking of romance as a foreign concept as he'd probably never have a choice to whom he'd marry. This was...strange.

There was a quiet whine and Noctis looked up and saw Umbra staring intensely at them. Had he been watching the whole time? Noctis tried to shoo him away without moving Luna, which proved to be quite difficult. Nonetheless, the dog gave him what looked like an annoyed look, before flattening his ear against his head and trotting away.

Noctis sighed and settled himself back onto his pillow, trying to find a comfortable position with the extra heat he will gladly have to get used to.


	6. Chapter 6

Prompto pressed each of his fingers against his thumb, the movement difficult and the lightest pressure painful and distressing for the gunner, even with the nurse's encouraging words. He needed his hands for more than everyday life, he needed them to pull the trigger, he needed them to snap photos.

He couldn't fight with his friends anymore and his hobby would literally become painful.

Even with the miraculous quick healing that had blessed them, the skin of his hands were still scarred from the lacerations he had sustained, the scars pulling at his skin and going deep to were his damaged tendons were.

It was a mess.

The nurse wrapped his hands in their braces again complimenting him on his progression, which made Prompto smile a little...just a small tired smile.

"Say miss," Prompto started, testing his fingers flexibility in the braces and looking up at her. The woman was busy noting down the examination results on her pad. "Is the Head hunter still hospitalized here?"

"Who? Ah, that man. He left yesterday evening, there was nothing more we could do for him. His colleagues said they'd bring him somewhere calm so he can sort his ideas out."

"Ah...," Prompto deflated at the news.

He had hoped to question the man, about what he had seen up there at the Citadel. But now he was back at square one, with an intense need to know.

It was past noon and the heat was unbearable. The moment he set foot outside he already was sweating bullets. People hid indoors or took refuge in the shade, though some kids were braving the sun to play.

Prompto sighed, stuffing what he could of his hands in his pockets. The hunter had been reciting the same verses over and over and some of them had been familiar. He needed to see them on paper and show them to the others. And that meant one thing...

The library.

A place he dreaded since high school he would rather avoid at all cost. But the pain was worth it if it could bring him closure about Noct's fate or give him hope...

The library that has been established in Lestallum was overflowing, people had been storing books or any scrap of knowledge they could lay their hands upon during the Starscourge. Thankfully they had the time to index everything throughout the years or Prompto would have wept in pain. As if heading to the poetry section wasn't painful enough.

Gladio should have been the one for the task. He had seen the guy reading poems from time to time, whether to charm Monica or for his own enjoyment, he did not know. But still, he was able to read this stuff without bile threatening to take a ride up.

His heart skip a beat every time he thought he found something, his stiff fingers skimming the pages quickly. The light outside had dimmed considerably before he finally found something in the folklore section.

Two songs titled _Somnus_ and _Omnis Lacrima_. His hands were shaking as he read the translated lyrics of those songs. Why didn't he recognize them sooner! They studied old folklore in literature, if only he had paid closer attention in class.

He rushed out of the dreadful library after checking out the book at the counter. He had to show his discovery to someone. Ignis first, he knew where he was. He's usually cooking for Cid at this hour.

Prompto, book under his arm, quickly made way for the old mechanic's house who chose to reside close to the department store. Looks like he was addicted to the smell of gasoline.

Cindy was the one answering the door and Prompto had to watch out for his stammer. The years didn't remove anything to her beauty.

"Hah! here's the slacker I was looking for," she laughed, grabbing a blushing Prompto by the collar and pulling him inside. "You've got some guts to abandon your friends when I send you off for an errand."

"Ah well," Prompto chuckled nervously, showing her his injured hands. "I'd be more cumbersome if I joined them."

"Ah shucks, anyway what are you here for?"

"Prompto?" came Ignis' voice from the kitchen. Cindy hummed in understanding and let him pass.

Seeing Ignis cooking was always strange. Everyone would've assumed cooking needs sight, but that man somehow found a way around it and the results even tastier than before, which was confusing. Did his enhanced sense of smell compensate that much?

Cindy had returned in the living room to keep company to old Cid, whose health was quite feeble nowadays, leaving Prompto and Ignis together.

"From your tense silence, I assume you didn't come here to steal a plate of food."

"No I didn't," Prompto put down the book on the counter, and Ignis raised an eyebrow at the thump the object made. "I found something...about Noctis."

"Prom-" Ignis started, biting his lip. Reticence in his posture.

"No, you have to hear this," Prompto opened the book at the pages he marked. "I found the verses our neighbor was shouting."

Even though, he heard Ignis' exhausted sigh, he started with the lyrics of _Somnus_ as they gave a good base then moved to the next song.

" _'With him sleeps power,_

 _Sleeps our beloved sky,_

 _Begging for forgiveness,_

 _Can he once again see the dawn'_ "

Prompto looked up at Ignis who tried to concentrate on cooking while the blond was citing verses at him.

"This segment of _Omnis Lacrima_ talks about the Dawn, just like _Somnus_ , and that a God, or Master in the case of this song, will wake up once the Dawn arrives. They're talking about a resurrection."

Ignis sighed again and put the cover over the pot to let the meat simmer in its juice. "Is the timer correctly set?"

"Hmm? Ah yes," Prompto answered, starting the timer which beeped shrilly as it started its countdown. "The first segments of _Omnis Lacrima_ are similar to the previous song, but then it gets interesting. Considering it was talking about the moment the prophecy mentioned in the Cosmogony is fulfilled the next lines talk what happens after!"

" _'Behold the day of glory,_

 _the coming danger divides us all_

 _The children...and the children have lit a flame_

 _For our master to find his peace,_

 _All is stained in blood...'_ "

"From the change in tone, those events don't happen at the same time, which...Are you even listening?"

"Yes I am, and it is quite interesting," the blind cook sighed turning towards where he heard his friend's voice. He leaned against the counter behind him. "But there's something you don't know about that song, the original version of was lost and all that's left is the one that was adapted for an old play where said God was fighting against a Goddess. A lot of it is dramatized or pure fiction."

"But still, _Somnus_ hasn't been changed-"

"I know. Thanks for bringing it up. I'll think about it."

Ignis quietly went back to cooking and Prompto huffed and as he was about to walk out the door when the ground suddenly shook and a mighty ear-splitting roar echoed. The cutlery rattled. Then human screams... a lot of screams.

"What is this?" croaked Cid's voice from the living room and then Cindy's voice tried to calm him. But Prompto had already rushed outside, Ignis hot on his trail. Barely taking two steps on the sidewalk, the gunner's blood froze as he realized what just happened.

"What do you see," urged Ignis, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention.

He couldn't believe it.

"A-above the lakes in Duscae there's...Leviathan..."

He didn't have the time to take in the sight of the Tide Mother's gigantic body, twisting above the duscaen lakes, her bony face looking straight at Lestallum, before there was another crash, this time behind them. He jolted and more screams echoed around the city as people started to run away from the scene.

"What's happening?" Ignis shouted, gripping Prompto's sleeve hard.

On top of the Exineris tower was another silhouette, one they've briefly seen in the flesh only a bit more than a week ago, but have seen for many years on crests and ancient illustrations in Insomnia. An immense dragon armor-clad man, golden swords orbiting around him like a dangerous halo.

Bahamut.

* * *

"You haven't done this a while, haven't you," Luna chuckled. They had decided to practice their ballroom dance to pass time and because it was likely going to be present after the upcoming ceremony and being invisible wasn't an excuse not to try embarrass themselves, according to her. Luna was excited at the prospect of a ball. Apparently the last one she had she was still really young and such events haven't been held in the Niflheim Empire since their politics entered a downward spiral. A ball would bring back the little girl in her she told him.

"Don't hold your arm like that."

"Sorry, but my arm is numb because of a certain someone."

He had often woken up with Prompto on top of him after a long night of tossing around or Gladio's arm on his face, though he had woken up this morning with a mouthful of hair and a numb arm crushed underneath Luna, the experience had been different and an uncharted territory. He hadn't wanted move, partially because she looked at peace asleep and he didn't want to ruin it. And the other part of him wanted to sling the bedcovers off and fan the heat away. He could have sworn it got as hot as a day in Duscae.

They had all the space they needed to practice in the Throne Room since the work was all done except for the lone worker polishing the floor with his machine. He suddenly felt too hot as Luna pulled him close, putting on of his hands on the small of her waist and held the other in her remaining hand.

He was supposed to lead this clumsy dance, but he was too distracted to properly care about the correct steps of a valse...

Noctis was roughly pulled out of his wandering thoughts, by a yelp from Luna and her legs suddenly losing their footing on the freshly polished floor, hitting him in the shins and knocking them both off their feet. Pain flashed across Noctis' face, the pain strangely reminiscent of an Anak kick.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" Luna yelped trying to check on Noctis who groaned in pain against the floor. He was certain he broke his jaw and nose.

"I'm okay," he muttered as he slowly sat up, the words hard to form on his lips. The bottom half of his face was throbbing painfully. Noctis gingerly touched his stinging lip and his finger came back red. So he did bleed here, the sight was strangely comforting. "We'll try to find better shoes f-"

His eyes went wide when the blood on his fingers and busted lip burned hot and suddenly sizzled in red sparks and thin smoke. A smoke he remembered all too well, a smoke not unlike the one he has seen from dying daemons.

"Luna... y-you said-"

"I still stand by what I said," Luna exclaimed, lifting his face in the cup of her hands so their gaze can meet. She stared deeply in his red-flecked eyes. "I don't feel a difference between our powers. You still feel of Light."

Noctis swallowed, unable to shake off the unease that gripped his guts, he had heard the hesitation in her voice and she realized he knew she was omitting something.

"It may simply a different form of Light I haven't encountered before, okay," she whispered calmly, giving him a peck on the lips to comfort him, which still made him feel tingly, though it didn't mix great with the dread he felt. "I will tell you if I sense anything abnormal, would you like that?"

He quietly nodded after a moment and Luna smiled, pleased. She looked away when she heard the patter of feet in a hurry and Noctis followed her gaze. Another worker burst into the Throne Room, winded.

"Hurry...something's happening."

The two workers rushed out and Luna sent an inquisitive glance at Noctis, then they followed the men out of the Throne Room. They expected to find a catastrophic scene, the whole city on fire looking out the windows but instead found a small gaggle of workers in the antechamber, gathered around a small radio on a tea table.

" _Returning to our main story tonight, the Astrals have been spotted across Eos, mostly over cities. The damage to infrastructures was minimal. The Astral Bahamut was reported to travel from city to city, before stopping over Altissia and cornering a citizen. Witnesses claim there's was 'a strange light' all over the scene. The Astral then fled the scene; the citizen is currently under observation for possible injuries and shock. More news after the break-"_

Noctis looked down at where Luna's hand gripped his tightly. The workers were whispering in worried voices around them.

"This can't be," Luna's lips trembled. "Bahamut anointed a new Oracle?"


	7. Chapter 7

A dozen of men and women had gathered in the wilds of Duscae, crammed in the storage room of their host's home. The lighting was dim and the air painful dry, making everyone uncomfortable, squeezed between food crates. They were speaking in quiet voices, as if they feared capture by authorities.

Steps thundered down the stairs and their host, a blond-haired man walked in, shutting the door behind him. He brandished the newspapers in his hand. On the cover was featured the latest news about a new Oracle from a bloodline that wasn't the Fleuret's. A picture every around Eos had seen by now. A young girl, no older than ten with a terrified expression on her face in the multiple pictures that were captured of her after the event.

"The Astrals may have been assholes to us from the start," the man said. "But they've given us the best tool towards a _new Era_ for Eos."

The commotion of the Astrals' return had yet to die down when they officially announced the post-mortem coronation of the last of the Caelum. To thank him for having fought the last bastion of darkness", the official story said. But Cor knew the truth about the King of Kings would surface one day...and sooner than later. The confusion and frustration was palpable.

The marshal wanted to scream his frustration at the way the Astrals dealt with the mortals. Not like it wasn't the first time they made poor decisions.

They created a rift among people: some were glad an Oracle had returned as they always had symbolized peace and meant things 'were returning to normal'. The others were enraged the Guardians of Eos dared to show their faces now, after the dust had settled. Cor could only be relieved there was no violence...yet.

The storm will hit, there was nothing he could do to stop it now, but try to do damage control. As much as he wanted the King of Light's prophecy to disappear in history, he couldn't allow himself to be this cruel to the person who suffered this much because of a divine mishap.

* * *

He invited the King's closest friends to a small private funeral so they could say their goodbyes without being assaulted by the swarm of visitors during the coronation. It was held in the mausoleum, under the Citadel, not the most fashionable place for a royal ceremony, but it was the most suitable place that did not attract unwanted attention.

The coffin was stored in one of the many alcoves that littered the catacombs, the Sword of the Father on the lid, resting among Kings and Queens that dated before the rise of the Armiger tradition. Not as personal as a crypt, but the eldest Amiticia said here was better.

"It's closer to home."

"Good to know," Cor nodded. "We can't keep moving him around like that."

He threw a glance in the alcove, where Argentum was now paying his respects, knees weak and face white as a sheet since he spotted the person resting under the open lid. Amiticia looked a bit shaken as well, though mostly exhausted, as if an integral part of him had been sucked dry. Hearing about the King's death was one thing for the Shield, but seeing the proof of it was another.

Cor sighed when they surfaced again. The three friends departed from the Citadel, quiet, arms around each other in support. The marshal had invited them to stay in Insomnia for the time being, so they could rest far away from the attention that had been bearing down on them in the last few days since the article published about the King and the Astrals and Oracle's return. A few resident had returned to the City-state, mostly workers picking an apartment of their choosing. Which may become problematic once rent and tenants came back, but that will be a problem they will have to deal later for the time being.

For now, people were getting ready for the upcoming festivities. The Citadel was radiant, and in a way he'd never seen before. A mix of Lucian blacks and gold and Tenebrean whites blues. As much as Cor appreciated the solemnity of Lucian architecture and decorations, it needed a bit more _life_ here and there. Good thing the rest of the city made up for it.

Cor patted his breast pocket, his gift still there. One thing left to do.

An impressed whistle almost broke his stoic facade as he entered the Throne Room

White drapes cascading from the golden wraiths surrounding the Throne, red carpets trekking from the entrance and up to the dais with blooming bouquets on each side. And on the dais was hanging a crimson banner with his name threaded in gold.

 _Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV_

It looked like a cross between a coronation and a wedding. They really wanted to celebrate the whole deal, he chuckled as he ascended the stairs. From his pocket he drew the photograph found on the King's body, still intact. He took one last look at it, at the happiness it had captured and put it on the armrest of the Throne, knowing _he_ 'd see it.

Footfalls rushed into the room, the worker was panting and his eyes danced everywhere, looking for something. He jumped when he spotted Cor.

"Have you found them?"

"Found what," asked Cor, puzzled.

"The royal attires. We had them exposed...someone stole them."

* * *

"I just realized," Noctis hummed once they had returned to their quarters, laying his 'borrowed' clothes on top of the bed. Luna had been enchanted to spot the two outfits displayed near the ballroom. Noctis had recognized the dress as he had seen it exposed in Altissia before, but his groom outfit was new. A dark blue vest with hints of gold and a sash over the shoulder, and it did fit him, though a bit narrow around the torso which was a given considering it had been made for him when he was twenty years old. "If we can interact with the real world...can I leave a message to my friends?"

He looked over at Luna who had slipped behind the partition to change. She threw her shirt over the thin wall and Noctis had to keep his imagination in check.

"Never found a way to do so," Luna said. "I tried leaving notes after you left for Niflheim, but the paper always became blank the moment I stopped writing."

"Ah."

So the same would happen to their borrowed outfits, he guessed. They would simply magically reappear to any mortal watching, intact, even if they were to sully them. Might be a better thing or rumors that the Citadel was haunted would get out and might attract an even more unwanted kind of visitors inside.

"That explains all the missing socks returning after a few years."

"Because they returned? Luck you, the Astrals truly must be fond of you," Luna chuckled.

"Could the Astrals really do that though? Don't they exist in the physical world?"

Luna stepped from behind the curtain and his breath caught in his throat. She looked even more elegant than usual, even though she was contorting uncomfortably to reach the minuscule zipper at her back. She looked up to him expectantly and he understood his call.

"The Astrals can rest here," Luna said as Noctis fumbled at her dress, nervous at the expanse of skin presented to him. "Gentiana dropped by before you arrived. I have yet to see the other Astrals...they've been quite busy lately I guess."

The news of an Oracle ascension had shaken both of them, the prospect scary. There was no need the for one, the Scourge was gone for good, Luna kept insisting when she noticed how white Noctis got, remembering how his blood fizzled under sunlight and his odd eyes. He hoped she was right and the Astrals just humored the world by restoring a tradition that had been around for centuries and not for some other reason. Establishing contact with the mortals again? Possibly, but Noctis couldn't see why they would have a change of heart now and show themselves or simply send their Messengers like they have been doing before the War of Old, before they fell from grace in the eyes of humans in favor of the Oracle.

" Umbra?"

Luna turned around and saw the black shiba inu trotting inside, tongue lolling and tail wagging, at his collar was attached two rolls of paper. Replies.

The morning after Luna shared a first kiss with him, Noctis wrote back to his father, after struggling to find the right words. He hadn't wanted to sound impersonal by only delivering his news like an anchorman, and his relationship with his father had always been...formal. He had purposefully left out the stuff about a mortal seeing him and his _Light_ feeling strange to Luna and he hoped Luna hadn't mentioned it as well. Nothing odd had happened since he bled the other day, but the worries still trotted in the back of his mind

Luna kneeled beside Umbra, her loose dress squeezed under her armpits to hold it up, as she took the letters, handing one to Noctis.

"This one is for you."

Noctis carefully opened and sat on his bed to read it. Luna read hers with a smile slowly forming on her face and eventually a blush dusted her cheeks. Noctis' eyes returned to his letter.

 _"Words cannot describe how proud and relieved we are. As much as we would love to hold you in our arms, we are glad you are safe and now have a tremendous amount of possibilities ahead of you. Aulea sends you the biggest hug she can through this letter. You would love her, I'm sure. I now remember where that bountiful energy you had as a child came from. King of Light and now an Astral, it seems you are unable to live a normal life, mortal or not. I'm sorry I failed on that regard. But with the way you handled it, I'm not sure a mundane life would have suited you. Please, do not disappoint your old man and make the most out of it._

 _-your father, Regis"_

* * *

It was the dawn of the coronation day. The Citadel was quiet like the silence before the storm.. Noctis and Luna made their way to the Throne Roon which was breathtaking.

The sight was strangely unreal. He had spent so much trying to ignore he would one day become King as it would have meant he was next in line to get the life sucked out of him by the ring. But now that he already been dubbed the True King and was about to be crowned for a _second time_ , all he wished for was to share the moment everyone he cared about. Technically he would, but not at the same _place_.

The Crystal was still hanging above the throne, its core gleaming peacefully and shedding crystalline dust that floated around like fireflies. The beautiful sight for their eyes only.

He sighed, making himself as comfortable as he could on the Throne. The cushion was unbearably thin and the angle of the backseat sharp. No wonder the King only sat there on formal occasion or they would've given up the Crown generations ago.

Luna joined him, holding the hem her dress up as she climbed the steps. Her attire seemed even more radiant under the direct sunlight flowing through the windows and the massive hole that yet to be fixed. She shone like fresh snow under the sun. Luna plopped herself down beside him, balancing herself in a hollow of the sculpture encasing the throne and propped her elbow on his armrest. She smiled at the look still present on his face and he looked away nervously, realizing he had been staring.

Wait...she liked his attention didn't she? Oh, he was clueless about this whole thing.

"What is that?"

"Uh?"

She pointed at something he just noticed was peeking out from under his sleeve and Noctis lifted his arm, curious. A picture, a familiar one at that. One that had caught his eye among many others that also carried so many memories. How did it get it there? Was it one of his friends? He couldn't believe he missed them.

"Oh..."

He smiled sadly and passed it to Luna and warmth flooded her eyes as she gazed upon the memories etched on the paper, all the people she had wish to meet for real, all young and smiling, oblivious of the fate that would befall them. She would have loved them, he was sure of it, but even then, it wasn't the longing of a lost opportunity in her eyes, but tenderness. He remembered why that woman had been such a great part of his remission as a child: care and joy of life that couldn't be smothered by hardships.

He didn't even register how his hand had snuck to caress her cheek and she turned towards him, her smile still radiant as she cupped his face and pulled him to her to softly kiss him.

Noctis could imagine it, having her by his side as a bride, not by duty he had been raised to accept but by his own choice. And he welcomed the idea.

The future wasn't so scary anymore...


	8. Chapter 8

The sun had yet to fully rise but Cor was already waiting at the Citadel's steps, hands behind his straight back. A few others officials and newly trained butlers were waiting beside him for the first of their visitors to be allowed in. A small crowd had gathered beyond the gates, even this early, eager to see the jewel of the Crown City before the whole place was drowned by the massive crowd that would be coming.

The gate across the plaza opened with a rattle, letting their most valued visitors through. Butlers rushed to open the car doors and an eclectic collection of politicians and religious officers came out, dressed all proper and solemn expressions on their faces, even if it was a day of celebration. Among them was the small Oracle gripping the hand of her widowed father tightly. The young girl looked overwhelmed her eyes darting all over the place and her father looked nervous, like he would rather take his daughter and run. Both were sticking out of the crowd with their hand-me-downs fancy clothes, though the clergy had put greater efforts on making the Oracle look good, since they planned to make her participate in the ceremony. A small fragile flower amidst thorns. Cor hoped she wouldn't get shredded during the incoming storm. The exultation surrounding the Coronation may be at its peak, but the frustration was still clinging, like a bad after taste.

Security was high in Insomnia in case the rebels would try to hit the Crown City, a place that could be considered holy due to its connection to Bahamut and the legends of Eos. Regretfully, only a few were trained Insomnian guards, so many were hunters in uniform they hired last minute. Cor hoped they would be enough for the job.

The bell struck 8am, its song echoing through the Crown City. Only two hours left.

* * *

It was a massive crowd. Ignis knew that much with just his ear pressed against the glass of the hotel room they were given for their stay in the capital. Probably stretching across the whole length of the Main Boulevard. The ruckus was unbelievable and he was glad the marshal had offered them a place inside the Citadel as the 'Survivors of Insomnia', which on top of sparing them from the crowd, it would spare them from the potential groupies they had gathered since the article Dino had published for them, though Noctis was the star of the day.

' _Come once you're ready_ ,' Cor had told them, for which they were glad. Prompto had woken up with a bad case of stiff joints in his hands and they knew how badly he wanted to photograph the event even though manipulating his camera was painful.

Monica, who had joined them last evening, was still trying to soothe the pain. Prompto groaned as he tested his fingers after having his hands massaged. Still a bit painful apparently.

"How many of those do you want?" Gladio asked.

"Umm, the wide angle, 200mm and 50mm should do," Prompto groaned.

Gladio grumbled as he inspected the assortment of lenses and tried to read the fine print and pack the correct lenses in Promto's carrier bag. Monica hummed, declaring her job done as the rest of the work would be done by painkillers. Ignis heard a lot of shuffling around and he stood up, ready to depart.

The guards at the Citadel's entrance gave them no problem after showing them their invitations and once inside, Gladio took a heaving sigh.

"If only Noct was there."

"I'm sure he is," said Prompto with a smile.

* * *

The Coronation was broadcasted on all radio channels, all over Eos, even in the small bedroom of a blond-haired man, meticulously cleaning his hunting knife. Outside sand the cicadas of Duscae, competing with the chorus of the choir singing from the low quality speakers.

It was a travesty, the man thought as he kept an attentive ear on the news. He could clearly hear the clergy and their honeyed words over the cheering crowd.

" _O Draconian who providest for thy people of Lucis by thy power, and rulest over them in love."_

Astrals...a Plague on mankind. Maybe Niflheim had been right all, they were just sadistic overgrown creatures, wrecking havoc on the world and humankind. And it was a hunters' job to clean the source of habitat destruction.

The blade gleamed as he inspected it from every angle.

 _"Grant unto this thy servant Noctis Lucis Caelum the 114th, our king, the spirit of wisdom and government, that being devoted unto thee with their whole heart, he may so wisely govern,"_

He wondered how big the crowd was. He knew many of them were hunters he knew, friends and colleagues of his brother. He wished he could've been there and _participate_ , but his ill brother needed someone to keep him company. He smiled, pocketing his knife, shame he was going to miss it. Behind him, his brother stirred on the bed and opened his eyes.

"I wonder if he's there, Aurel...the King."

The clergy was standing before an empty throne, but according to his older brother, a king sat there. Donned in royal garbs and proud. He claimed to have seen the last Caelum sitting there for the first time when he scouted the Citadel two months ago...and saw him again while he was hospitalized in Lestallum, in the chamber of the party who participated in claiming back Insomnia.

He didn't want to believe his brother at first, the nurses were saying it was simply shock, but his words slowly convinced him. " _They're named after astral objects,... Light of Night Sky and the Moon_." " _Songs have heralded they're arrival for centuries._ " " _They are our Astrals, born among us_." Even if his brother may be loopy like the doctors say he is, his brother got one thing right, real or not, they represented something better than the Astrals did.

 _" That in his time thy Crystal may be in safety, and devotion to our Astrals may continue in peace, that so persevering in good works unto the end"_

This peace won't last. The Dawn had been an awakening. Humans won't bow to these creatures any longer and tolerate them destroying their homes as some divine test of their wills. They will have their own gods. Gods that cared for them, and the new Oracle will be the perfect tool to achieve it.

 _" He may by thy mercy come to thine everlasting kingdom, the Hexatheon who liveth and reigneth with thee in the unity of this Covenant of Old for ever and ever_ , _Ila Eram._ "

And they won't have to wait long for the revolution...

" _Ila Eram!_ ," chanted the crowd.

* * *

The Throne Room still hummed with the echoes of the choir and the cheers of the crowd breezed in from caving in the wall beside the throne and the air sang with joy and relief. Noctis could have stayed there, sitting on the throne for eternity, basking in the feeling forever. The day he had dreaded for years turned out to be better than he expected and feeling Luna move beside him pulled him out of his daydreams.

She delicately picked up the crown that had been presented to the empty throne at the end of the ceremony, and gently laid it atop the newly crowned King's locks.

"You look magnificent, King Noctis." Luna said with pride, her eyes bright.

"You as well, my Queen."

Luna blushed and timidly took his lips in thanks. His heart still skipped a beat at the kiss, thankfully the awkwardness was mostly gone as it was bound to happen after spending a few nights sharing a bed and waking up with a mouthful of hair and a painful knee to the groin once or twice. She fidgeted quite a lot for someone who looked like the embodiment of inner peace.

Luna stood up, patting her dress back into its normal shape after sitting for so long.

"The day isn't over yet, your Majesty," she said, offering a hand he gladly accepted.

"I've never been in here," Luna whimsically whispered, looking up at the tall bay windows and the skylight shining down on the frescoes surrounding the dance floor.

Noctis was distracted by the voices he heard through the doors opening onto the Banquet Hall. Among them were his friends, he could've sworn he spotted Ignis slicked back hair and his shades. He was glad they came for the Ceremony, not that he doubted they would.

Noctis smiled, squeezing her hand, turned to his new wife and bowed. "May I have the first dance milady." His playful smirk was reciprocated as she stepped closer to him, looping an arm over his shoulders. "Not exactly the fairy-tale dance I'm afraid," he apologized. No sweet orchestral music was accompanying them and no awed crowd to look at them.

"I prefer this to observing our guests eat for an hour," she sighed with smile, resting her on his shoulder.

It was hard to realize the vision he had nurtured since childhood was unfurling before his eyes. A dream which at first was tinted by childish innocence was now real, albeit not as perfect as his imagination pictured it to be, but it was their moment, personal. Their waltz had slowed to a gentle sway.

Sighing he rested his chin a top her head, taking in her calming scent.

"I wonder what's coming next...", she whispered. Noctis frowned at the thought and his heart broke a little once he felt her hands grip his vest a little bit harder. While Noctis had felt alienated by the duty and fate thrust upon him, he had others and things to look up to, Luna had had none. She had been alone, two of a kind sharing the same fate on each side of Eos. This moment was their end goal.

And seeing beyond that was...hard.

"We'll see when we get there, okay."

She silently nodded against his neck and they sank into silence, pushing away all thoughts and savoring the moment as best as he could.

The quiet taps of a new pair of feet entering the hall brought them back to reality, and in the doorway separating them from the Banquet Hall, stood a familiar face. Prompto was clutching his camera, a bit awkwardly with his braces, as he raised it to his face, snapping a picture of the _empty_ ballroom.

Noctis kept an eye on him, he was glad to see him out of the hospital, but he didn't miss the suspicious stride in his feet. He has known Prompto for years and recognized many of his quirks. And this was his infamous 'I got something to hide' walk. He casually took a few more shots then took a cautious look behind his shoulders in case of security and left the Ballroom towards the elevators.

"Just one moment", Noctis said to Luna who nodded silently. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before following his unknowing friend.

* * *

Prompto already felt like he had been stepping onto forbidden territory when they met with King Regis, ten years ago, and back then he had been authorized to enter. Him, the peasant allowed inside the Citadel's walls. But _this..._ this was blasphemy.

The security had been lax around the Throne Room and he simply had to show his pass to the most inquisitive ones and they let him roam somewhat freely around the floors, especially as one of the very special guests.

Even though he knew there was no one in the vicinity, he still made sure he was quiet like a mouse, his feet making no sound on the polished marble of the room. To say the Throne before him now belonged to his childhood friend was such a strange thought. The picture he saw of a 'King Noctis' felt alien. He could only remember the geeky, moody and awkward Noctis who'd been away from royalty for so long Prompto forgot he had a title to his from time to time. Noct being crowned always felt like something that would happen in a future they'd never reach...and now it had.

He swallowed thickly as he stopped beside the cold marble throne.

"Noct... you're here, aren't you?"

The throne remained silent. But it did not deter him.

A pressure suddenly appeared at the back of his mind, followed by a violent shiver, like something passed through his being.

"Noct?"

* * *

Noctis took a shaky breath. His head felt like mush, his limbs heavy, like weights were attached to them. His vision swam and he felt like he was on his father's yatch and it took all his might to not throw up on the spot he was laying down. What just happened?

He had followed Prompto back into the Throne Room and he had been ecstatic his friend doubted he was truly gone, though seeing how much anguish it brought the gunner saddened him. It's not because Luna hadn't found a way to communicate with him while he was alive, that it was a impossible. Prompto simply needed to feel his presence...somehow!

He had willed it, so much he swore he could have felt his friend's shoulders under his hands when he knelt beside him on the step. His incorporeal hand on Prompto's shoulder. Then a strange feeling overtook him, like his consciousness was forcefully squeezed through a straw and darkness spread across his mind.

And there he was, struggling to get his arms underneath him, even though his hands protested against the weight he put on them.

"Noctis!" Luna's voice echoed from the other side of the Throne Room, she had followed him apparently, and she sounded worried. Even he wasn't sure what happened exactly.

Feet rushed to him, but they weren't Luna's. Heavier and two pairs of feet.

"What are you doing here," hissed an angry voice, deep and rough. Large hands seized his shoulders and jerked him up into a sitting position. "This area is still restricted."

Gladiolus Amiticia...was looking directly at him, his hands clasped on his shoulders. This had to be a dream. He must have fainted when he touched Prompto. They hadn't been able to see him before, and touching even less likely, why would they be able to all of a sudden. And was it about not being allowed to enter his own Throne Room.

Gaping, unsure what to answer, he turned towards Prompto...only to find he wasn't there anymore.

"W-where's Prompto?" he mumbled.

He saw Luna approach the scene carefully, still invisible to the other two men, her face mirroring Gladio's stunned one.

"You cracked your head or something? Or are the pain killers too strong?"

"What?"

"We can't stay here any longer," warned Ignis, interrupting them. His head was angled towards the double doors, his fine hearing probably picking up subtle sounds. "Prompto, if you don't feel well enough, you can always return to the hotel. No one will hold it against you."

And Gladio turned to Noctis...expecting an answer, but all his head was filled with buzzing...and a familiar voice echoing in the depths of his mind. Gladio seemingly had enough of his long dumbfounded silence and pulled him to his feet. "Okay, we'll call it a day."

All blood drained from Noctis' face when he saw it, on his right wrist...was a code bar.

* * *

(A/N) And you are up to date with the AO3 version :)


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